


and the whole wide world is whistling

by nirav



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirav/pseuds/nirav
Summary: the mma au that no one technically asked for





	and the whole wide world is whistling

**Author's Note:**

> inspired entirely by [this spectacular series](https://smallandsundry.tumblr.com/tagged/supergirl-mma-au) by [smallandsundry](https://smallandsundry.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr. i'm not at all to blame, go yell at her.

“Kara!”

The apartment door blasts open, cracking against the wall, hard enough to jar all of the pictures and only avoiding cracking it because the door is metal and the wall is brick.

“Holy _fuck_ , you’re not going to believe this,” Alex keeps on yelling, scrambling the fling the door shut behind her.  She’s dripping sweat on the hardwood and even her palms are sweaty enough to slip against the door, but she manages to get a grip on it and shove it back to closed.

Kara blinks sleepily up at her from the couch, shaking her head and the drowsiness chasing her back towards sleep.

“What?”

“Get up already, will you?” Alex says with a huff.  She flings herself onto the couch by Kara’s feet and slaps at her ankle, ignoring the disgusted grunt Kara lets out at her sweaty skin.  “It’s almost eight.”

“I’m off today!” Kara says with a groan, yanking a pillow up over her face.  “Just because you’re training doesn’t mean I need to be.”

“Actually, it does, since you’re my training partner.”

“I’m not the one with a bout coming up and you know it.”

“But you’re about to,” Alex sing-songs, and she slaps at Kara’s ankle again and leaps up to her feet, pacing up and down the length of the living room.  “Come on, get up.”

“What?” Kara finally pushes halfway up to sitting, nose wrinkling and a yawn pushing its way out of her.  “I have a fight?”

“You do!” Alex points sharply at her, still pacing, taking a detour towards the kitchen and returning with a glass of water.

“With who?  When? Who?” Kara’s finally away, shoving her hair out of her face and shaking the sleep out of her eyes.  

“Take a guess,” Alex hums out and smirks at her, draining the water glass and disappearing back into the kitchen to refill it, her throat dry after her run.  

“Don’t do that,” Kara yells after her. “I can just call J’onn--”

“But where does that get fun?” Alex reappears in the living room with two mugs of coffee and her water glass triangled in her hands.  

“Just tell me,” Kara grumbles into her coffee.  

Alex waits, hands full of beverages, until Kara’s taking another sip before she speaks.  “Sam Arias.”

Sure enough, Kara chokes on her coffee, spraying it out onto the table and her knees.

“What?”

“Yep!” Alex crows.  “You’re going to fight someone you can’t dance your way out of!  You’re gonna _die_.” 

* * *

 The fight is in four months.  Alex’s next fight is in three days, and Kara shelves the fact that she has to face Sam Arias-- Sam Arias, with an inch in height on her and a solid three inches in reach, who moves around the cage like she’s dancing, who has an effortless fluidity to her movements that does nothing to lessen the absolute sledgehammer that is her striking capabilities-- because Alex needs to focus and Kara is nothing if not a good sister/roommate/training partner/best friend.

Well.  Mostly.

A rolled-up handwrap smacks into the back of her head, bouncing down off her shoulder and into her lap, unraveling from the impact and covering the screen of her tablet.

“Sorry,” Kara mumbles, sheepish, shoving the tablet and the video of of Sam Arias knocking someone out three punches into a fight.  “What’s up?”

“I need a hand,” Alex says with a huff.  “Some training partner you are.”

“Sorry,” Kara says again, leaping up from her seat and bounding over to where Alex is loading plates onto a bar.  She slaps Alex’s hands away and sets to loading the plates, moving quickly along until the bar is loaded up and Alex is ready to go.  “Have at it.”

“So are you already obsessing over Arias?” Alex asks after the first three reps.  She pauses at full extension for a split second, craning her head back to smirk upside down up at Kara.

“What?  No,” Kara scoffs.  “I’m not _obsessing_.”  

“Sure,” Alex says with a grunt and a sharp exhale and two more reps.  “You’re not at all worried about fighting someone with better reach--” She grinds out three more reps.  “--and a massive striking power--” Four more. “--who isn’t afraid to actually grapple.” One more. “Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not _afraid_ of grappling,” Kara says moodily, helping Alex guide the bar back into teh cradle.  “I’m just--cultivating a healthy respect for the competition.”

Alex sits up and spins around on the bench and rolls her eyes gratuitously.  “Sure,” she drawls out. She rolls her eyes and rocks up to her feet with a huff.  “Come on, let’s go obsess over fight tapes.”

“You have a fight in--”

“ _I_ don’t have anything to worry about,” Alex says, tossing a smirk over her shoulder and then a towel after it.  It hits Kara in the face and she lets out a huff. “Because I know I’m going to win. You, though. That one’s still up in the air.”

“Hey!” 

* * *

 Kara reaches out blindly for her water bottle, groping around for it while her focus stays up on the TV and the replay of Sam Arias sliding easily around an otherwise well-executed punch from her opponent and gracefully dropping down to the mat with one arm locked around the other woman’s throat.

“Jesus,” she mutters, finally tearing her eyes away from the inevitably tapout to find her water bottle.  It’s wedged between Alex’s knees and completely empty. “Hey!”

“Hey what?” Alex doesn't look up from her phone.

“Hey, you drank my water, jerk,” Kara grumbles.  “And hey, you’re supposed to be studying the tapes with me.  What are you--”

“Research,” Alex says absently.  Her eyes widen slightly at her phone, and Kara yanks it out of her hand easily.  Sam Arias stares up at her from an Instagram picture on some beach, all long hair and long limbs and perfectly situated sunglasses and an actual _flower_ in her hair--

“Seriously?” Kara says.  “You’re ogling her?”

“I’m not ogling her, I’m respecting her as a woman and an athlete,” Alex says with a sniff.  “Give me that.” She yanks the phone back out of Kara’s hand. “Besides, can you blame me? She’s, like, gorgeous.”

“I’m fighting her!”

“That doesn’t mean she isn’t hot, you know,” Alex says mildly.  “See?” She scrolls to another picture, after some fight, sweaty and somehow glowing beautifully in spite of it, all wide smiles and pressed cheek to cheek with another woman.

“Whoa,” Kara says after moment, squinting at the picture even more.

“See?” Alex says. “Told you so.”

“No,” Kara says faintly.  “I mean, yes, but no-- that’s not what I meant. Who’s the other lady?”

Alex pulls the phone back to face her, one eyebrow up as she inspects the picture. “No idea.”

“She’s so pretty,” Kara mumbles.

“Hey.”  Alex snaps a hand in front of Kara’s face.  “Focus. Fight tapes.”

“Excuse me, which one of us was Insta-stalking the competition?”

“Which one of us is gonna get her pretty face broken by Sam Arias in three months?”

“I hate you,” Kara says with a grunt, even as she flops back to face the TV and skips to the start of the next fight.  

* * *

 “Come on, again,” Alex calls out from the other side of the ring.  

Kara pauses to glare at her and then throws the same combination out at her sparring partner.

“Faster, come on, you can do better than that,” Alex says.

Kara blows a loose strand of hair out of her face with a huff and drops her hands so she can glare again at Alex, who’s propped on a stool, eating a donut.

“I hate you,” Kara mutters.  

“You love me,” Alex says.  She takes an oversized bite of the donut and grins widely at Kara, powdered sugar on her lips and floating down towards the mat.  “Do it again, come on. Stop slacking.”

“Stop slacking, she says,” Kara says, fists flying out rapidly into the pads.  “Like she’s not sitting there on her ass.” She throws the combination again. “Eating a _donut_ right in front of me.”  Again, and a muffled grunt comes out from behind the pads she’s hitting.  “Sorry, James,” she adds belatedly.

J’onn appears at the edge of the ring, leaning on the ropes.  “How’s it going?”

“She’s terrible,” Alex says with a sigh.  “Total bum. She should probably run some laps.”

“I’m sure,” he deadpans.  “Will it motivate you more to know how much money you’re going to walk away with if you win?”

“You finally settled on a number?” Kara bounces over to the other side of the ring, ripping at the straps on her gloves and tossing them back towards James.  “Really?”

“Her team is,” he starts, and then pauses.

“Difficult?”

“Irritating?”

“Annoying?”

“Dedicated,” he says, glaring at the both of them.  “I would go with dedicated.”

“How much?” Kara says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, pulling her hair loose from its tie and pulling it back up again to keep her hands busy.  

J’onn pulls the ever-present pen out of his pocket and grabs for her hand, inking a number onto her palm.  He hops down from the edge of the ring casually and strolls away, leaving Kara to gape at the number of zeroes on her hand.  Alex grabs for her wrist, yanking Kara around so she can read the number as well, and chokes on a mouthful of powdered sugar donut.

“Shit,” she breathes out.  “Is that--”

“Yeah,” Kara says shakily.  “That’s like. So much money.  So much.”

“You _really_ have to win now.”

Kara lets out a loud groan and slumps down over the ropes.  

“No pressure or anything,” Alex says casually, patting her shoulder.

 

 

 


End file.
